


The thing about Tony

by undeads (poetanarchy)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 21:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7123348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetanarchy/pseuds/undeads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has PTSD but someone knows and cares</p>
            </blockquote>





	The thing about Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21013.html?thread=53074453#t53074453
> 
> This is the first fanfiction I've written in a really long time and my first MCU one. I hope it's okay!

Sometimes being friends with Tony Stark was like being friends with an unstable chemical. It seemed to find a stasis but you always wondered when it would just lose it and explode. That was Stark. As he stood around arguing for the Accords, Sam saw the chaos underneath carefully spoken words. It wasn’t so unlike veterans he’d seen in his time counseling -- it wasn’t so much unlike himself earlier in his life. He fundamentally disagreed with the accords. 

And his worry for Stark wasn’t so much that he seemed unaware of the fact that he disagreed with him as that Sam saw the grab for relinquishing responsibility of his actions for what it was. Stark didn’t trust himself, his power, his guilt and anxiety from the past victories -- which had that thread of failure, not everyone had been saved. There was no way Sam could say anything in public to Stark. That was just asking for bluster. 

Then, Steve had to excuse himself. Sam felt the urge to go after him but the PTSD counselor in him was trained on Stark who worked so hard to appear confident and in control when he clearly wasn’t. Stark was like a kid desperately trying to make something okay that wasn’t okay. That something was himself far more than it was the Avengers. With Pepper being gone, Sam figured it was only another tick in the lost boy category. 

“Stark, can we talk a minute, in private?” Sam said, trying to seem unassuming and the others had already dissolved into debate. Vision was probably the only one that noticed Sam trying to pull Stark aside. 

“You do realize, there’s nothing you can say to change my mind?”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not trying to change your mind. I just want to talk.” Stark had looked at him dubiously but had Sam follow him into the next unoccupied room. Sam felt a bit of the burden creeping up on him now. He was trying to fix Ironman, Tony Stark, a guy that was objectively far smarter than him and powerful. But Sam knew things and had experience in things that Stark didn’t. 

“Look, I know you think you’re doing this because of the Avengers but this is about you, Stark,” Sam said, his voice calm and he wasn’t going to cut corners. If he was going to get through to Stark it would be with direct language. “This doesn’t take the responsibility out of your hands and it doesn’t fix the problem.” 

Stark started to cut in but Sam held up a finger, a silent ask that the man wait. “I don’t care if we agree on the accords but I care that you’re using this as a bandaid for your mental health. You’re not okay and that means that Ironman is a danger to society,” he kept his eyes on Stark who was looking anywhere but at Sam Wilson. 

“When you’re ready to deal with the real problem, Stark,” Sam paused, pulling out his wallet and sliding a card from inside. It had a name and number of it -- his replacement at the VA. He’d let the guy know that he’d given it to -- technically not a soldier-- Stark. “Call this guy, he’ll help. Maybe you should talk to him before you sign over your freedom.” Maybe that last statement wasn’t the best but he couldn’t help it as he slid the card over to Stark. 

Stark ended up not saying anything -- which was unusual -- and Sam left. He was too close to help and he was loyal to Steve. Despite seeing the problem that Tony Stark had and recognizing that broken and lost look, he couldn’t be the one to save him but he could give him the tools to find help.

\---

The bourbon burned as it went down Tony’s throat. He wasn’t sure how many glasses he had downed as he sat in his office and stared at the business card. He’d wadded it up and then unfolded it again several times. F.R.I.D.A.Y already had the name and number so it was really a formality that he kept it. He needed to fly out to Geneva soon but he was sitting at his desk, the phone taunting him. 

He reached for it, punching in the numbers manually instead of having F.R.I.D.A.Y generate a call for him. He put the receiver to his ear, listening to it ring. When someone picked up, “Hello this is…”, Tony slammed the phone back down and then poured himself another glass. He downed it just as quickly as all the others, standing up and shoving the card into his pocket. 

Sam was just trying to get under his skin. Tony knew he was fine. He didn’t need help. The Avengers just needed to be held accountable.


End file.
